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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841036">Snow and Sweaters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastHarlequin/pseuds/LastHarlequin'>LastHarlequin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy VIII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, R/Q if you squint, Snow, some hurt/comfort in there, sweater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:00:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastHarlequin/pseuds/LastHarlequin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Quistis dislikes snow, but can't stop watching it.  Fears piling up like flakes. Until a friend can help to melt them away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Island Closest to Hell, Winter Festival 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Snow and Sweaters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Created for the Island Closest to Hell winter event, theme: Sweaters. R/Q if you squint. Something soft and short as the days get colder, shorter, and darker.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Snow hung heavily over the landscape muffling everything and sinking the world into a dark smooth emptiness.  Snow bothered Quistis, she looked out at it with a pensive anxiety.  It had taken her a long time to understand what caused it, eventually though she came to understand.  It was like the end of the world.  The sound swallowed up by the hollow void, the detail and color fading to monochrome and blank white.  </p><p>So why did it captivate her so, because there was something that drew her eye, pulled her attention, the eddies and flows of the blizzard mesmerized her.  It left her trapped as though in a fugue.  Her hands wrapped around the metal tankard as the heat burned through her palms and fingers pushing away the chill through the great panes of Garden settled just aside where Trabia had nearly finished its reconstruction.  </p><p>It had been years.  The world was saved and the greatest threats of the world fell aside to a period of relative peace.  However, like the ground beneath newfallen snow all the problems that caused the situation in the first place were still there, merely hidden, muffled.  There was chaos, and it caused a negative peace.  An absence of open conflict rather than the positive peace of justice.  Quistis sighed silently, her chest slowly rising and then letting out in one long exhale.  She started badly when a hand touched her arm. Her eyes flying wide at the unheard approach.</p><p>“The cup…” The words drew Quistis’ attention to the mug that had been slowly deforming as her grip grew tighter and tighter, even now the mulled wine no longer steamed but was nearly overflowing as its container shrunk through the steady compression.  </p><p>Quistis’ eyes squeezed shut as Rinoa’s hands gently settled over hers around the mug.  They opened as the sorceress spoke again.</p><p>“Are you alright?” the younger woman asked, her large expressive eyes guilelessly pleading for honesty staring back into hers without reservation.  </p><p>“...No.” she admitted, though the first words to her lips had been a lie.  She found as she looked into Rinoa’s eyes she didn’t want to lie.  She could admit to herself she was frightened of the future.  She was SeeD, first amongst the world in maintaining the fragile peace that had been created.  But even now she felt like snow, so fragile, so temporary. Her clothes that usually felt so empowering left her feeling cold and exposed despite the relative warmth of the room.  </p><p>“Can I help?” Rinoa asked softly, her posture shifting to stand in front of Quistis, with the window and the darkness filled with flurrying snow beyond.  Quistis’ eyes began to water as she looked out, her lips pulled tight together.</p><p>“I don’t know.” she said even more quietly.  Rinoa let go of her hands then and Quistis felt like the tears that threatened may just fall as Rinoa pulled off her sweater, stepped behind her, and draped it over Quistis’ shoulders.  The material was warm, both in make and from the person who had been wearing it.  Quistis’ eyes closed at the gesture, squeezing two tears out of her eyes as she held.  She felt arms wrap around her middle and tensed until she felt Rinoa press into her back, chasing the chill from her.  A small smile broke through the tears and she felt the smaller woman’s grip get tighter, crushing almost. </p><p>“I’m going to try.” Rinoa said her voice muffled from being pressed into Quistis’ back to the point she could feel when the other woman’s jaw moved.</p><p>“You already have.”</p>
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